I'm having one of those weeks where things are going so suspiciously well that something absolutely horrific is pretty much guaranteed to happen at any minute. I got back from Norway feeling all refreshed and optimistic, then got word that I was conditionally accepted into the doctoral program here and started laying the groundwork for my fieldwork next year in New York. (It'll be nice to be back because I also just found out that I was elected to the board of an organization that I love, and I'm really looking forward to not finishing any conference calls at 3am.) Operation: Stop Getting Fat is going well, and spent a solid hour at the gym every day this week. Tomorrow is my six-month anniversary with David. And I bought train tickets to go to Tarek's goodbye party in London on Saturday, when it is supposed to be 70 degrees and sunny.
Basically, I will either get food poisoning tonight or my train will derail this weekend. I'm actually thinking of throwing myself in front of a bicyclist or destroying my library books just to preempt the universe and sabotage my life myself.
EDIT: The dessert at dinner was possibly the best cheesecake with berry glaze that I've ever had. This just keeps getting worse and worse. Someone I love is probably going to die for this.